


Anchor

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, POV Third Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: In which Dave has a nightmare, drinks a whole bottle of AJ, and luckily has a boyfriend there to help him a little.





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> This is really short but I'm weirdly proud of it. Pure fluff; I know what I like.

Dave pulls a bottle of apple juice out of the fridge and checks the clock on the wall: 3:26am.

“Nightmares?” Karkat asks from the nearby computer desk, engrossed in some project.

Dave breaks the seal on the bottle, responds with a, “Yup,” and takes a sip. Karkat looks away from the monitor for a minute, twisting in his chair to see his boyfriend leaning against the fridge.

“I’ll come to bed in a few minutes, okay?

“Nope, it’s fine.”

Dave, bottle still open, walks toward the computer. Karkat’s expression turns a little anxious, but he returns to his work.

“Whatcha up to?”

He huffs a little, in tiredness and annoyance. “The usual. I’m throwing around plans for the rest of the city with The Mayor, re-arranging some of your asinine playlists,” he says the word almost with disdain, “and Terezi needed help with something.”

“She havin’ a bad night, too?”

“She’s upset about Vriska.”

Dave hums in understanding. He takes another swig of juice and continues looking over Karkat’s shoulder at the computer monitor. Karkat notices, and turns to swat him away.

“Piss off, I told you I’ll be there soon.”

“And I already told you,” Dave says, “It’s fine.”

He takes a seat on the nearby couch, the one Karkat insisted they save from the Meteor. Dave didn’t really understand the sentimentality at first, but now he appreciates just how comfortable and familiar it is. He slips into his usual position, sitting in the corner with one elbow propped up on the arm of the couch. He’s still drinking his apple juice. His eyes blur just slightly as he sits there, staring at the coffee table in front of him. It’s partially an anxiety reaction, still being somewhat inside the mental state the nightmare put him in, and partially because of the fact that it’s 3am and he has nothing better to do than stare at a goddamn coffee table.

He takes a big gulp of juice, hoping it’ll snap him out of it more, with mixed results. It mostly doesn’t work.

“What was it about?” Karkat asks, quietly.

“The usual.”

“Your brother-lusus?”

There’s a brief pause. “Let me be the first to tell you,” Dave says, “that sliding across rooftops and Texan summers don’t mix that well.”

Karkat closes whatever windows he has open and turns off the computer monitor. He gets up and sits next to Dave, pilfering a sip or two from the now almost empty juice bottle before slipping his arms around him and lying his head on Dave’s shoulder.

“It’s such bullshit that you still have to go through that.”

Dave doesn’t say anything out loud, but Karkat can feel him nodding in response.

“Do you think they’ll ever leave you the fuck alone?”

“I dunno,” Dave responds, and finishes off the bottle. He puts it on the floor, and moves one of his free hands to rub up and down Karkat’s back.

They stay quiet for a minute, wrapped up on the couch like that. Dave’s eyes start to get glassy and he starts to feel disconnected again, but he makes an actual attempt to focus on Karkat–his weight against him, the feeling of his short, squishy arms around his own lanky middle and the way his horn always seems to get him in the neck, along with the movements he himself is making along Karkat’s spine. He breathes it in, trying to focus on the moment.

  
It works pretty well. Not perfectly, but enough where he feels like he’s anchored firmly in reality.

“I don’t wanna sleep again tonight. I’m gettin’ pretty damn sick of reliving…shit.” Dave sits a little straighter, and Karkat lets go of him, moving instead to grab his hand.

"Wanna watch The Room?”


End file.
